Tycho Celchu, hero of the Battle of Endor and Ace pilot in the Alliance's celebrated Rogue Squadron hacked his way through the jungle of Cilpar with his machete. The Imperial TIE pilot uniform he wore was stained with sweat and plant sap. Small tears appeared where he had been snagged by the dense undergrowth of this temperate region of Cilpar.

He had been shot down – and by his own X-Wing! Tycho shook his head at the memory. This one would be hard to live down when he got back to Wes.

But at least he would get that chance. Most TIEs didn't have escape equipment. The Empire expected their pilots to die fighting – and gave them no other option. These TIEs had been modified, though. Moff Tascl, as vicious as he was, knew that he would get no reinforcements from the Empire any time soon since the Emperor had died. Tascl had been smart enough to protect his assets – including his human ones.

Tycho had gathered extensive intelligence for Winter while he played his part in her plan. He had to admit it was a pretty good plan. The Imperial Captain's uniform she had procured for him had secured his entry into the Imperial compound and the code slicing she had done on the personnel files kept him there as an accepted relief pilot for the TIE squadron. The Imps bought his cover without a second thought. He now knew the layout of the compound, the force structure of their ground and air support, the leadership and their quirks, and the scheduled patrols and security sweeps. He had even had the chance to scout the perimeter of the compound for lines of fire and blind zones that might be useful in an assault. Now he just needed to get out of this jungle and deliver that information to Winter and Wedge.

THWUMP! THWUMP!

Tycho strained to hear the distinctive thumping in the distance. It was an Imperial Scout Transport! Chicken walkers, the rebels called the two-legged walker because it looked like a chicken and it squawked liked a chicken when shot. He was still wearing his TIE uniform. He could hitch a ride with them. It may be the only way out of this jungle.

Tycho knew they could only be traveling on the dry creek bed he had crossed awhile back. Heavy equipment like an AT-ST wouldn't be able to make it through this dense forestation. The Empire had at least learned that lesson at Endor. He listened carefully to triangulate on the source of the sound. The echoes in the forest could make apparent direction deceptive. Finally, confident he was hearing it correctly, he calculated a likely intercept point based on their respective rates of speed - slow for him, only slightly faster for them - and his memory of the terrain from above. He wasn't too worried. He knew his sense of space was highly developed. A starfighter pilot had to be aware of his relative location at all times. In this, he was fully confident.

30 minutes later he emerged from the jungle and stood on an outcropping of rocks at a bend in the dry creek bed waving his uniform jacket. An AT-ST and a heavy assault hovertank rounded the bend in the hard-cut ravine amidst deep cliffs and overhanging ledges.

The head of the AT-ST oriented on him instantly and he could feel the aiming reticles of the twin blaster cannons centered on his chest. Both vehicles stopped for a moment, no doubt communicating orders. Tycho stood patiently waiting. "Don't shoot!" he said helpfully.

The hatch popped on the hovertank and an Imperial Infantry Commander stuck his head out.

"Who are you?" he snapped gruffly. "Where'd you come from? What's your unit?"

"Celchu, Tycho. Captain, Imperial Navy." Tycho stiffened to attention as he identified himself. Winter had kept his real name in the records she sliced so the altered portions would be harder to spot. The Empire was quite helpful in this regard as his defection to the Rebel cause would not have been noted in the regulation data file. The Empire did not admit to losing any troops to the Rebellion, let alone elite pilots. Winter had only had to create a falsified posting to cover the last several months since he had gone AWOL. By the time his records were routed through Imperial Intelligence and his real history was revealed, he would be long gone. "I was assigned to Kiidan unit, but I got shot down by an X-Wing Squadron. I've been hacking my way to daylight for thirty-six hours. I sure could use a lift back to civilization."

The commander bent down and consulted with someone inside the tank. No doubt checking their datapads for personnel rosters. Then he straightened and assumed the posture of amused superiority that is universally earned when one rival military branch rescues another. "All right, Captain. We'll take you into Kiidan. Climb aboard."

--ooOoo--

Winter sat on the troop bench in the belly of the cramped hovertank, hands shackled and a guard's blaster just inches from her face. She kept her beleaguered Princess Leia mask firmly in place. This wasn't the ideal way to infiltrate the Imperial compound, but it would work. It wasn't like she had much choice about it, anyways. She seethed inside at the memory of a sneering Vance Rego amidst a squadron of white-armored Stormtroopers – all pointing blasters at her and Wes. At least now she knew who the traitor was!

She knew it was quite the gamble, but she was counting on the vanity of the local governor to not have her killed instantly. She fully expected she would be exhibited as a prize prisoner for awhile. During that time, she would be gathering much needed intelligence. An opportunity for escape would present itself somehow. It had to. Then that traitor would earn his just reward for what happened to Tamarack, Moff Tascl would be called to account for what he did to Gates and Aranis, and one more piece of the Empire would die.

She felt the tank stop and heard the muffled discussion outside. Unsure and frankly, uncaring, Winter's mind reviewed what she knew of the Governor's compound. Like a computer pulling up data files, she shuffled through the memories in her perfect recall, seeking patterns and connections that she could use. Like a spider, she built a web of datapoints around which she could hang her threads of planning, searching for a way out of the maze and toward her desired outcome. It was a constant reshuffling. Always absorbing more information and reassessing old information. Resources came and went. This was her secret weapon – her mind.

Just as Winter was wondering how Tycho was doing, she could swear she heard his voice.

"Appreciate the ride." The voice that sounded like Tycho had said.

"You look beat up, Captain." The tank commander was saying. "Fortunately, we have a skilled healer on board. Princess Leia!"

Tycho hadn't even tried to cover his surprise. "Princess Leia Organa?" He gasped as he dropped down to the inner chamber of the troop transport.

Winter was shocked to see Tycho here but she did not, could not allow it to show. Maintaining her mask of defiance, she looked up at the gorgeous blond Alderaanian she had sent on this mission.

"Princess, take care of this pilot," the commander demanded imperiously.

Winter jutted her chin out and pointedly raised her shackled wrists. "Why should I?"

"It's a long way to Kiidan. You wouldn't like riding outside – in the sun." The Infantry Commander gave Tycho a smirk and waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Actually, it would probably be better than this Imperial sweatbox. "I'll treat him – but not because I'm afraid of you. He's just a soldier. He can't be blamed if his superiors are cretins." Winter hoped that was sufficient resistance without going too far. She desperately needed to talk to Tycho – to find out what he had learned and to plan their next move. She doubted they would have that privacy, but maybe they could find a veiled way to communicate.

Then Tycho surprised her – again. "I'll take that seat, soldier." Tycho dismissed the guard firmly.

"But I'm supposed to guard her," he protested.

"How is she going to patch me up with you in the way?" Tycho put a leer on his face and his voice went steely. "I think I can handle her. Go on."

The guard understood the message immediately. "Yes, sir." He moved to the front of the transport with the driver. It was less than three meters away but the noise of the hover engines insured they wouldn't be overheard if they spoke softly. Visual inspection was still a problem, though, as the forward steerage compartment was open to the back troop area.

They needn't have worried. The driver and the guard sat rigidly looking forward. They had been in situations like this before with superior officers. They knew their duty.

Tycho's leer quickly transformed into a trying-not-to-grin grin as he surveyed Winter's condition. He sat across from her in the confined space and leaned in. "Need some help, Dame Winter?"

A flash of annoyance spoiled the relieved cast on Winter's face. She took a moment to open the medkit the commander had given her while surreptitiously verifying that the driver and the guard were still facing forward. She took some bacta gel and started examining him for needed application.

"What happened to you?" she whispered.

Tycho took a moment to allow Winter to complete her task. Her touch felt really good and he indulged the sensations her warm fingers created. She smoothed some gel on the angry cuts on his bare arms, then inspected his neck, scalp and face. His face went slack as she tilted his chin with her thumb and forefinger to get a better angle on a scratch that crossed his cheekbone.

It was then that Winter noticed Tycho looking at her with unmistakable heat in his eyes. She realized belatedly her hands were caressing his chin in a decidedly unclinical manner. Traitors! she thought to her hands but she refused to blush. Instead, she allowed a subtle smile to touch her lips. "Is that better, Captain?" she asked in a lofty tone as she dropped her hands to put the bacta away.

Tycho grabbed her hands and returned them to his face. "If that's what a Captain gets, it's fun being a captain." With one hand he held her hands to his face and with the other hand he reached out to caress her hair.

Winter was surprised at the strength of her body's reaction to his touch. Her stomach actually fluttered in a way she hadn't felt since the schoolgirl's crush she had on that diplomat's son at the University. Her throat tightened and her breath hitched. Winter breathed in his musky odor heavy with sweat and jungle. Tycho leaned over and for one wild second, Winter thought he was going to kiss her right then and there.

"They're watching," he reminded her. "You're not supposed to be enjoying this."

Stunned, Winter almost laughed out loud. She choked back an undignified snort as she shook her head at him. Leaning back, she raised an eyebrow and loudly declared "Captain! I'll thank you to remove your hands from my person!"

Quietly, so only Tycho could hear, she added deliberately, "Not."

Tycho's eyes sparkled at her flirtatious riposte and he moved to sit next to her on the bench. Crowding up against her, one hand on the overhead stability hold, he growled loudly, "Come now, Princess. I heard you like pilots. Especially the scruffy ones."

"I got shot down by my own R2 unit." He whispered, answering her earlier question.

Winter didn't have to feign her chagrined look. "Whoops."

Tycho was shocked. "That was you?" He didn't realize she could fly, let alone fly well enough to shoot him down. "Did you learn that in a book, too?"

"I was sending a message to Wedge when it took off. I finally overrode your R2, and found myself surrounded by hostiles, so…" She shrugged and let the rest trail off in a silent apology.

Tycho stared at her in amazement and finally snorted. "You little manka!" he exclaimed loudly for the guard's benefit. Quietly, he added, "Why aren't you a Rogue?"

Winter met his eyes in blatant mutual admiration. "Oh, you'll find I have too many talents to be confined to one squadron."

Tycho cocked his head slightly. "I will? Promise?"

This time, Winter did push Captian Celchu back from her position on the bench. "Enough!" She proclaimed loudly. "Guard! Guard!" she called.

"I'm going to infiltrate the Governor's compound. You need to find a way to get out and bring Wedge in. I will be fine." She whispered her instructions to Tycho. "The mission is our number one priority. We have to stop Tascl."

"We'll talk later." Tycho promised as he got up from the bench, knowing it was dangerous to stay any longer – both because of the risk of discovery and the risk of pushing Winter too far. He snapped at the guard to return to his post as he went forward to sit in the co-driver's seat the guard had just vacated. He remained vigilant, though, keeping an eye on the guard to make sure he didn't get any ideas himself, and every now and then, when he caught Winter's eye and when nobody else was looking, he winked at her and allowed himself a huge internal grin.

--ooOoo--

The low thrum of the heavy engines tapered off slowly as the hovertank stopped and the cargo door swung open with a loud clang. "This way, Highness." The Infantry troops surrendered custody to the Stormtroopers in the massive hangar stocked with droids, tanks and AT's. Winter made sure to get mental snapshots of all the equipment so she could catalog it all later for the Alliance's dossier on Moff Tascl.

The Imperial Colonel jerked her forward impatiently. "No point in dragging, Princess. The Governor is eager to meet you."

Winter noticed he didn't mention the Moff. She wondered what the relationship was between the Governor and the Moff. It wouldn't be unusual in Imperial politics to have tension between competing authorities. The Governor answered to the Moff, but governors throughout the galaxy seldom limited their ambitions to just one planet.

"Get your hands off me! I don't need help walking," Winter exclaimed imperiously. She had to maximize the impact of her Princess Leia disguise if she wanted to ensure her value to the Governor. If there was a rift between the Moff and the Governor, she was pretty sure she preferred to be in the Governor's custody. She shuddered with the picture-perfect memory of the personal glee in Moff Tascl's voice as he ordered the execution of the Tamarack townspeople.

The Imperial Colonel – Colonel Mapter, she had heard him called - led her in silence down lengthy corridors away from the equipment hangar and deeper into the compound. She stayed alert, capturing the rank and nametag of every person they passed, the make and model of every droid, and started plotting a map of the premises in her head.

357 paces, two left turns and one right turn later, Colonel Mapter stopped at a large double door with two Stormtroopers standing guard. He touched the comm panel and leaned in to request entrance. The double doors slid open soundlessly to reveal a sumptuously decorated large office.

Pulling Winter with him, he approached the large desk against the far wall. Behind the desk sat a large, bald man that looked to Winter to be a human Hutt. Corpulent and fleshy, his slovenly shaped features held no hint of intelligence or sagacity. Winter knew better than to be deceived by appearances, though. Governorships are not hereditary posts in the Empire and while there were many an incompetent leader rewarded with posts of authority for some act of obeisance, most, if not all Governors excelled at one thing – control of the populous.

Colonel Mapter snapped to attention in front of the desk and saluted. "Sir, may I present Princess Leia Organa."

The large man behind the desk had been watching their approach with unadulterated glee. Eagerly, he waved them forward. "Let me look at her, let me look at her," he ordered impatiently. Holding out a flimsi in front of him, he squinted one eye as he glanced back and forth between Winter and the flimsi, scrutinizing the resemblance as if she were a prized work of art he was purchasing.

"It's her!" he crowed, clapping his hands together. "Princess Leia, a great honor… Come closer. Have a seat. Would you like a drink?" he barked in rapid succession. "Come, come. We have much to discuss. What do you think of my compound? What do you think of Cilpar? It is much too agrarian for your refined tastes, I am sure. Don't let that fool you! I have the finest of everything at my disposal, and now it is yours. Rare Alderaanian wine or the best ronk delicacies? Koolach silk perhaps? Hmm, yes, silk becomes you. I think we can manage that, hmm? What say you?"

Winter reeled from the onslaught of words spilling out of the Governor's mouth. "No, thank you," she managed to answer gracefully.

"Yes, yes, you will like it, you will see." The Governor continued as if she hadn't spoken. "It is so kind of you to join me. It is such a fortuitous time in galactic history, eh? What with that regrettable business with the Emperor and all. You and I, my dear, we see the future, do we not? We understand what it takes to move forward. But you must be tired after your arduous journey.'

"Please, " he continued magnanimously. "Do take advantage of my fine hospitality. I hope you won't refuse my invitation to dinner. We've prepared quite a feast in your honor."

Winter was surprised that he actually paused his prattle to await her answer. "Why honor me, Governor? You've made your choice, and it's not the New Republic."

"Yes, but once you hear my plan you'll realize how brilliant it is and where you'll fit in." The Governor's expression hardened and his portly frame leaned forward intently. "The New Republic is dying, Highness. But there's no reason for you to die with them."

He held Winter's gaze for a split second to make sure she fully understood the threat, then suddenly slapped his pudgy hands on his desk, causing her to startle. He rose to his full height - making him barely taller than when he was sitting – and motioned Colonel Mapter forward.

"Dinner at eight, hmm?" he asked mildly. Turning to Mapter, he directed the Colonel to remove the cuffs. "She's not going anywhere."

Colonel Mapter escorted Winter back the way they had come and then took a left turn before stopping at a nondescript door on the right. He punched the security code into the control panel and moved aside so she could enter. "The attendant will be along shortly to assist you in your preparations for this evening's dinner. I suggest you get cleaned up and start looking like a princess." He left with a curled lip and a haughty sniff.

Winter immediately inspected her surroundings. She was in an average size state room with the usual assortment of personal hygiene items, comfortable bedding and pleasant if somewhat prosaic décor. There was a transparisteel window bay but the other side was pitch black. She couldn't tell if the window was covered from the outside or if there was a privacy screen installed and set to maximum. She searched for a control panel but found none.

There was also a standard holonet station tucked in a small alcove between the abbreviated canopy at the head of the bed and the blackened window. She touched the control panel just to be thorough and unexpectedly it lit up with the Cilpar Governmental Channel. Eagerly, Winter browsed through the feeds, looking for a two-way communication channel. There was none, of course. This holonet station was set for receive-only, hosting only the Imperial News Network and an approved holodrama library, undoubtedly meant to impress the Governor's guests with Cilpar's cosmopolitan beneficence.

That was their second mistake.

Their first mistake had been not conducting an electronics scan when they apprehended her. Everyone knew Leia Organa's strengths lay in the diplomatic arena. She was gutsy and cunning and a skilled negotiator – but she wasn't a slicer.

Winter, on the other hand, was.

She did a quick scan of the room for obvious monitoring devices. She found none but knew there was little chance she had complete privacy. Nevertheless, she had to risk it.

Seizing the opportunity, Winter popped the access panel to the communications array. Subtly, she palmed the small chip that was imbedded in the waistband of her pants. If any security forces were watching her, they wouldn't be alarmed by her tinkering in the holonet station as long as they thought she was without the proper tools. In fact, they were probably laughing at her foolishness.

Deftly, Winter removed the circuit inhibitor that was the only physical barrier to outgoing communication, simultaneously replacing it with the smuggled chip. That was the easy part. Replacing the panel with a gesture of frustration for the benefit of any spectators, she settled in to wade through the hard part, fully anticipating that there would be layers of intricate security screens in place.

Much to her surprise she found only standard Imperial security codes – codes the Rebellion had cracked many months earlier and were stored in her memory.

Finding the personal comlink frequency of TIE fighter pilot Captain Tycho Celchu, Winter sent a short text only message, arranging contact later that evening. They both needed to make sure they were free to talk and not be overheard.

Winter then set a ferret program running to seek out and copy as much secure data as possible while she was at dinner. Frowning, she bit her lip when she remembered she had very little spare memory capacity in the small chip.

Thinking quickly, she scanned the low band frequencies and selected one that looked unused. She set the chip to transmit at that frequency, overlaying the feed with instructions to record and return to home base. She was fairly confident Tycho's R2 was still monitoring the low band frequencies, awaiting orders. It was a shot in the dark while on a fishing expedition, but it was the sort of calculated gamble that Rebels took.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, she calmed her swirling mind and began sorting through the images she had collected since her capture. The hangar had an unusually high number of vehicles and droids being repaired and the personnel all seemed to have a harried, overworked appearance. She knew better than to reach any premature conclusions but she wondered if the Governor was stretched thin. She was eager to see what information her ferret slice program came up with.

Moving into the refresher, she complied with Colonel Mapter's snide directive to clean up. She had to admit the shower felt good after two weeks in the forest. Even Tycho had noticed how disheveled she had become.

Winter sighed audibly as she recalled his blue eyes raking her form when they first met. She wondered if she would get a chance to enjoy his company again. She wondered if she wanted that. No, she knew the answer to that. She wanted it very badly… perhaps too badly. That wasn't good. It was not a good idea to get involved with anyone. Not for her. Her life revolved around the New Republic and Princess Leia. She couldn't be fair to a man in a relationship. For her, the mission had always come first and always would. It was who she was. No, she decided, it wasn't a good idea for her or him. Yet…

Winter suddenly realized she was very, very tired. Stepping out of the shower she donned the luxurious robe that hung on the door hook and went out to sit on the bed.

She was awakened by a rap on the door, followed by a soft whoosh as the door slid open before she could respond. "Come, Princess," the attendant said briskly. "No time for napping. Governor Norquest wants you to wear this."

"Get out." Winter snapped, annoyed she had allowed herself to fall asleep.

"I'm glad you have been sensible enough to wash up," the attendant continued as if she hadn't spoken. "Will you be needing help dressing?"

"I'm quite capable of doing that myself."

"And what of your hair? I am familiar with the latest fashions from Imperial Center. Will you allow me to select one for you?"

"I will not. I have and always will make my own comportment decisions!"

"Yes, well his Lordship requires that I ensure your readiness for this evening's dinner. So I will allow you to dress and style yourself if you do so promptly and satisfactorily as befitting a personage of your stature. Please proceed," The attendant held out the dress expectantly.

Winter took the dress with stone cold silence, realizing she was going to have to dress in front of him because she couldn't afford to allow him to remain unsupervised while the ferret slice was running on the holonet station. With every ounce of royal bearing she could muster, she turned her back and dropped her robe.

She dressed quickly then moved to the refresher to arrange her hair in the elaborate braids that Leia favors. Looking in the mirror, she judged the effect to be quite stunning. The dress was just the sort of dress she would have loved to have worn to a royal ball on Alderaan.

But this wasn't Alderaan and she didn't like the idea of being anyone's trophy on display.

"Time to go, Princess." The attendant escorted her back down the corridors to the Governor's office. The table had been set with an elegant dinner service but the chairs were empty. Winter's heart sank when she noted there were only two place settings at the table. Did the Governor fancy an intimate evening of romance? If so, it appears she had underestimated his ambitions.

"That's it! Now you're putting on a show!" The porcine napoleon clapped his hands and chortled in glee as an odd looking creature dressed in a royal blue robe with an Edwardian collar rode a unicycle about the room while juggling several balls in the air.

Suddenly it veered toward the Governor in a desperate attempt to maintain its balance and in the process lost control of the objects it was juggling. Several crashed to the ground with one landing directly on the Governor, splitting open and splattering a yellow yolk substance across his bald head. Eggs! They weren't balls, but eggs.

The creature must be meant as entertainment. Training non-human creatures to perform complicated tricks for the amusement and curiosity of friends and guests was a common past time in Imperial High Society. And they didn't much care whether they were sentient or not. Thankfully, Winter saw no sign that this creature was aware of its denigration.

"No! No! Idiot! Why--" the Governor stopped in mid-sentence as he saw Winter enter the room. "Oh my!"

The Governor stared, mouth open, yolk still dripping down his face, at the vision Winter presented as she glided gracefully through the entryway. Even the Stormtrooper guards turned to watch her descend, reflexively acknowledging the regal authority she exuded.

"You guys act as if you've never seen a woman before," Winter remarked sarcastically.

"There are few women of your quality on Cilpar, Highness," the Governor assured her as he wiped the egg from his head. "Come, let me look at you."

Hiding her revulsion at the touch of his pasty skin, she took the hand he offered her and allowed herself to be led in a half circle before him, displayed for his inspection. "Yes, indeed. You are a vision of loveliness, my dear." The Governor bent and kissed her hand in his. "Now please, join me for dinner."

They sat at the table as they were served one course after another of the finest delicacies Cilpar had to offer. The Governor dominated the conversation, regaling her with tales of his heroic leadership and the great esteem in which he was held by people of great importance.

Winter nodded when appropriate and politely acknowledged his palaver, waiting for his motives to be revealed. She knew his type. He would puff himself up with self-adulation and assume she would be equally impressed, then be shocked and quite angry when she ultimately denied whatever deal he had to offer. She tried to enjoy her meal because she guessed she would not be getting another like it until her rescue.

She refused to dwell on what might happen to her when she refused him. She would deal with whatever would come.

"So you see, my dear, I'm no mere governor. I'm expecting visitors shortly…, powerful visitors who will elevate me to the next level… an ambassador, or perhaps a cabinet minister." Finally he paused and turned pensively to face her. "I could do even better with a Princess as a spouse."

A marriage proposal? Winter barely restrained herself from choking on her food. She quickly hid her face with a napkin while she regained her composure.

"Oh, I can see you are surprised! Do not worry, my dear. I am not offended." The Governor set down his fork "But I think you will find that this is in your best interest."

"You have noticed I am sure, that Moff Tascl does not dine with us tonight. Surely, you are aware of the protocols involved with such an important prisoner such as yourself. I am risking quite a bit by not turning you over to him immediately."

"This is my offer. A happy, comfortable life at my side as we rise together in Imperial Society," he paused for dramatic effect. "Or Moff Tascl."

He reached out and took Winter's hand in his. His eyes showed amusement when she winced at his touch. "Perhaps I should offer you a confidence to demonstrate my good intentions."

"I can guarantee you that you will never be touched in my company. My appetites… run in a different direction, shall we say?" He cleared his throat nervously. "You would be my spouse but you need not worry about children or… other wifely duties."

His eyebrows knit together as his face took on a harder edge. "Moff Tascl, on the other hand, is known to take a, um, personal interest in his female prisoners." He shook his head in disapproval, making a tsking sound with his tongue. "The man is just too rough with his toys, I dare say."

Winter stared in amazement at the utter arrogance and foolishness of this buffoon. Arrogance because he actually believed she would entertain such an idea and foolishness because he actually believed he had to power to protect her. She felt like laughing and spitting at the same time.

But she couldn't ignore the comment about Moff Tascl. She thought immediately of Rascol and knew with instant dread what had happened to her. That was why she had never returned from the Moff's palace. If she had been caught, she must have been subjected to Tascl's "play." The rage burned in the pit of her stomach at the thought of such treatment. In a way, she was glad Gates was not here to hear this horrible truth.

Winter forced herself to smile. "What an… interesting offer. I shall have to think about it, of course." She knew how to play for time until another opportunity arose.

The Governor smiled in genuine pleasure. "Excellent! Now, lets…"

"Let me in!" A booming voice echoed from outside the antechamber. The whine of blaster shots rang out, followed by some muffled thuds. The Stormtroopers standing guard inside the Governor's quarters raised their weapons, instantly on full alert. The door whooshed open and two surprisingly precise bolts dropped the guards immediately.

If it wasn't so dangerous to be in the crossfire, Winter would have enjoyed the sight of Stormtrooper fighting Stormtrooper.

With the guards dispatched, the leading members of the invading Stormtrooper squad moved in, their plated boots clanking rapidly on the metallic floor. The attendant dove for cover behind a sparsely foliaged plant, trembling as he cowered in fear. The butler dropped his serving tray, spilling an entire bottle of expensive champagne as he raised his hands high in a gesture of surrender.

Governor Norquest's face was blotchy red as he rose in apoplectic rage. "What is the meaning of this?" he roared as much as his squeaky voice would let him.

Winter sat rigidly in her chair, not permitting her fear or shock a prominent position in her mind. She had designated the desk as the best cover when she first entered the room, but it was several steps away from the dining table and the shock troops already had her in their line of sight. The Governor did not appear to be carrying a weapon and the blaster rifles carried by the downed guards had already been scooped up by the incoming troops. She had no choice but to play this out.

The lead troopers rushed the Governor from behind, grabbing him by his stubby arms and dragging him to the middle of the room. Pushing him harshly to his knees, they assumed a position of executioner with the point of their blasters pressed to the back of his bald head. The Governor trembled in rage and fear, blubbering about his well-placed friends.

"Oh, do shut up Norquest." A tall man with jet black hair shaped in a deep widow's peak, piercing black eyes, and a cruelly sharp mustache and goatee spoke contemptuously as he stepped into the secured office. "There is nothing you can say to help you now."

The Governor's face looked stricken as the sinister man turned his attention to Winter. "I have the evidence and the absolute authority to have you executed here on the spot. Your parley with the Rebels is over." He was speaking to the Governor but he was gazing intently at Winter, a gleam of avarice in his sharp, black eyes.

The man snapped to attention and gave Winter a courtly bow "Moff Boren Tascl, at your service, your Highness… as you will shortly be at mine." His cold promise sent a shiver down Winter's spine despite the detached demeanor she was maintaining. He turned his attention back to Norquest. With a quick snap, he backhanded the Governor's thick jowels, sending him sniveling to the floor, nose-first. "Your attempt to betray me is too late," he snarled. "Your clumsy intrusion and theft of secured materiel will gain you nothing. Your Rebel friends will soon be all dead! Take him to the brig then dispose of him."

As Winter watched the whimpering Governor be dragged away, she realized she had unwittingly contributed to his demise by slicing into the Imperial system. Their blaming the Governor had removed him as a threat to her, but in its place now stood a greater one – this one with twisted and sadistic appetites.

The Moff's words replayed in her mind. He had said "intrusion and theft." Did that mean her ferret slice had been successful? He didn't say it had been averted; only that it had been detected. If Tycho's R2 unit received the data and was able to deliver it to Wedge, she hoped they would find something useful for planning an assault. That meant there was still a chance for a rescue.

It was a slim hope but she clung to it.

--ooOoo--

Winter sat stiffly on the overstuffed lounge chaise in Moff Tascl's "special guest" quarters. She had been deposited here many hours ago by a pair of silent Stormtroopers in gleaming white armor. Of course she had examined her surroundings immediately, but unlike the Governor, the Moff knew better than to leave electronic equipment lying around near dangerous prisoners. What she did find, however, left her thoroughly repelled and aghast.

So she sat, calming herself by watching her favorite memories like a holovid in her mind. She went through the usual childhood images of her real mother before she died; her adopted family, the Organas; exploring the crystal caves with Leia as young teens; dancing at her first ball; her first kiss with that handsome diplomat's son at the university.

Tacked on at the end of her reverie the image of Tycho Celchu arose unbidden. She replayed the delicious dizziness she first felt outside the cave's entrance while lost in those deep blue eyes. She felt the stubble of his chin as vividly as when she had first unconsciously caressed him while tending his wounds. Her heart fluttered again while re-watching him lean over her as if to kiss her. But he hadn't and now her heart ached with regret. She hung on the last image she had of him, a quick wink and a cock-sure grin meant to reassure her as she was led away in handcuffs and he returned to the dangerous undercover assignment she had given him.

Winter jerked upright at the sound of the door sliding open and the sight of a large dark figure blocking half the light shining in. The door whooshed shut behind him and he punched in a code to make sure it stayed that way. Taking a chair from the wall, he twirled it around backwards and straddled it, leaning over the back not a couple meters away from where Winter sat. "Now, my dear," he began. "Where were we?"

They both sat there staring at each other, the Moff leering in anticipation while Winter refused to show anything but disdain. "You are quite the powerful Moff, aren't you," she sneered.

He smiled a malevolent smile, his white teeth flashing evilly in the dim light. "You like powerful men, don't you, Princess? You've spent your whole life surrounded by them, currying favor with them and likewise, they currying favor with you. I should think you have quite a bit of experience satisfying powerful men, hmm?"

"You disgust me!" Winter spat out.

"Do I now? Well, I think I shall show you exactly what real power is!" With that he sprang out of the chair and grabbed her wrist, yanking her upright. Winter was prepared for that, though, and responded with a quick twist of her wrist, freeing it, and an upper cut with the butt of her hand to the Moff's chin. It was the first move her self-defense instructor had taught her when she started lessons at six years old.

Unfortunately, the Moff knew that move, too. He shifted his body weight slightly, turning her hard blow into a glancing tap and grabbed the offending arm, twisting it painfully behind her back. He held her there, one arm pinned between them, his other arm encircling her to hold her tightly against him. His chin rested on her shoulder and Winter nearly retched when she felt his hot breath against her cheek.

"I do love a good fighter and you don't disappoint, do you, Rebel Princess?" He inhaled her scent deeply as he squeezed tighter against her struggles. "You Rebel women do seem to be the best fighters, I've got to give you that."

Winter brought her foot down hard on the Moff's boot and simultaneously twisted in the direction of her pinned arm. Tascl involuntarily released his grip just enough to allow her room to bring up her elbow into his solar plexus. His breath left him with an audible huff but she didn't have enough leverage to knock him back completely. Springing away from his grasp, Winter grabbed the only weapon she could find – the light fixture on the table. Swinging it wildly around she narrowly missed the nimble Moff, who began cackling with harsh laughter. "Come now, Highness, you're giving me no choice but to restrain you."

Suddenly, a powerful explosion rocked the building, followed by several smaller explosions that seemed farther away. The Moff straightened immediately and pulled out a small holdout blaster Winter hadn't seen. He pointed it at her and motioned her back to her seat on the lounge chaise. "Sit," he ordered. He then went to the access panel by the door and keyed in the codes to open the door. "We will continue this later," he promised with a leer.

With that, the Moff was gone and Winter was left alone again. She tested the door just to make sure it was still locked. It was. Pacing the floor, she struggled to regain control of her emotions. Her outrage was coupled with a fierce celebratory vengefulness, for she knew exactly what those explosions meant.

Rogue Squadron had begun its assault.

--ooOoo--

Several hours and many explosions later, the door opened once again. A considerably flustered Moff stood agitatedly in the doorway, a blaster pointing at her from his hand. "On your feet, Highness. It's time to leave," he ordered harshly.

She regarded him coolly from the chaise, seemingly not having moved since he had left. "Don't you mean, it's time for you to leave?"

Tascl made a strangled sound of disgust deep in his throat and covered the distance between them in three explosive strides. "Shut up," he growled, poking the blaster barrel point blank against her temple. "I may be leaving but I will not be going empty handed. You will guarantee my survival, but she won't much care whether you are dead or alive." He emphasized his point by roughly shoving her up and out the door, one hand gripping her arm painfully, the other jabbing her between the shoulder blades with his blaster.

He shoved her all the way down the winding corridor, dodging urgently moving troops and scurrying support personnel. The explosions continued as all around her Winter saw evidence of a successful Rebel assault on the Moff's palace. Falling debris betrayed the failed shield generator and empty equipment bays revealed the exhaustion of Imperial resources. The smell of smoke hung in the air as fires burned where missile strikes had ignited some combustible.

Tascl dragged her out of the building onto an open-air courtyard large enough to serve as a landing pad. In the center of the courtyard sat a Lambda class shuttle, presumably the Moff's personal transport.

Desperately, Winter searched the perimeter for signs of Rebel troops. She knew if she left Cilpar with the Moff, her chances at survival went from slim to none. Despite Tascl's rough handling, she slowed her pace, trying to give the Rebels every opportunity.

"This isn't a good idea, Moff." Winter stopped walking and stood crossing her arms as if lecturing a child. "We won't make it through the X-Wing screen, let alone past the corvette sitting in orbit. The Alliance has won. You're much better off if you just admit that. At least you'll live… probably."

"All the more reason to take you with me," he sneered in response. "Your arrogance blinds you to my superior strategy. I need you to pilot my shuttle. With you at the helm, the Rebels won't dare fire on me."

Winter sniffed in disdain. "Didn't you ever learn to do anything useful?"

"Get in the shuttle," he growled menacingly. "Try anything and I'll shoot you and use a program to lift off."

They reached the shuttle and were starting up the ramp when the rescue finally came. A large brown lump of fur and teeth flew at the Moff with a mighty roar. Winter recoiled as blaster bolts zinged across the courtyard, followed rapidly by a figure running toward them at top speed.

The Wookiee – for that was surprisingly what that mass of fur and teeth was – had knocked the blaster out of the Moff's hands as if batting at a gorji fly and now had the Moff on his knees, strangling him while maintaining a continuous litany of Wookiee curses.

"Murderer!" the running figure screamed. Winter's eyes widened in surprise as she recognized Elscol Loro, the red-haired woman from Tamarack.

On the far side of the courtyard an explosion took out the last remaining gun emplacement. The responsible X-Wing circled to land immediately in its wake and a figure disembarked.

"GRRR MRRROOWWWL," the Wookiee bellowed indistinctly, shaking the Moff as if he were so much dirty laundry. One massive paw covered the Moff's face as the Wookiee moved in for the killing blow.

"Groznik! No!" Elscol stopped the Wookiee with an outstretched hand. "Let the courts deal with him. At least he'll get a fair shake."

Tascl took a deep, gasping breath as the Wookiee released his face. He struggled against the massive arms that still encircled his shoulders as his face was an icon of hate. "You won't last a day! The Imperials are landing with massive strength!"

Winter stepped up. "You're misinformed, Moff." The pieces had finally snapped into place for her. The Moff had given her the last clue she needed to put it altogether when he had let slip that his Imperial benefactor was female. "Now that you've lost your little Kingdom, the Imperials have lost interest in you." She smiled coldly. "Your benefactress will not risk losing her precious few resources just to save you. As you implied before… you have nothing to offer her."

"Winter!"

"Wedge!" Winter bounded over to her close friend and encircled him in a hug. "You have no idea how glad I am to see you! Thanks for the rescue!"

"Thanks for the intel. I'm assuming that information that Tycho's R2 passed us came from you?"

Winter smiled and nodded her head. "Rebel luck strikes again! That was a shot in the dark. But I knew if you got it, you would deliver."

"You've got Tycho to thank for that. He insisted we press the attack when you didn't make your scheduled contact." Wedge took in her evening gown and elaborate hair-do. "You didn't dress up just for me, did you?"

Winter smacked him playfully on the arm. "Behave, flyboy! You wouldn't happen to have a spare flight suit, would you? Even a utility uniform? This dress reeks of Imps."

"I think you look fantastic." An appreciative voice came from behind her.

Winter turned, surprised she had enough adrenaline left after her rescue to cause her heart to skip as it did. "I'm glad to see you made it, 'Captain,'" she said carefully. "Your pal Janson is recovering in the infirmary."

"Glad to hear it, 'Princess,'" he answered smoothly. "Congratulations on a mission well-planned. You've got quite the future in Intelligence ops."

"Tascl will pay for his crimes against sentience," Winter growled with vehemence. "This is why I do what I do."

Tycho nodded with understanding. "There's a lot of evil in the Empire that needs purging, isn't there?" He turned his eyes to survey the burning compound littered with broken machines and shattered bodies. "Although why it has to be so costly, I'll never understand."

Winter looked at him sharply. "Freedom and honor is worth any price."

Their eyes met, a now familiar spark jumping between them. "And we've both paid a very high price, haven't we?" Tycho said quietly. "Don't you ever wish you could get a return on that payment? Something good and lovely in return for all the misery and pain we've seen?"

Winter blanched. Once again, this man's perception amazed her. "Yes," she admitted softly. "I do."

"Winter!" Wedge interrupted from across the field where he had been speaking on comms. "I just got a call from NRHQ. We're pulling out."

"Tycho – you're flying the Moff's shuttle."

"What about my X-Wing?" Tycho asked.

"I can fly that Lambda," Winter offered. She knew how pilots got attached to their ships. It was the least she could do to repay Tycho for his help on this mission.

"Nope," rebuffed Wedge. "Sorry, Winter, but Tycho's got space reflexes you don't. That Imperial Star Destroyer is still out there and Leia would flay me alive if I let something happen to you."

"You want me to fly it by myself?" Tycho protested. "Chief, that thing's a truck! It's designed for a crew of six. It's hard enough to fly with only two!"

"I need to get back to Central. Need a co-pilot?" The words were out of Winter's mouth before she could stop them. The urge to finagle more time with this man from Alderaan overpowered her.

"I'd be honored." Tycho answered quickly. "Okay by you, Chief?"

Wedge nodded his approval. "Just check in at HQ as soon as you get back."

Wedge headed off to supervise the remaining transports and left the two Rebel conspirators standing awkwardly. Hesitantly, Winter reached out to touch Tycho's arm. "Well, let's get your friend out of sick bay and leave this garden spot."

Tycho smiled warmly. "Fine with me!"

--ooOoo--